


Marvel AUs

by Melancholy_Incarnate



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-06-22 08:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melancholy_Incarnate/pseuds/Melancholy_Incarnate
Summary: Soulmate AUs, modern AUs, workplace AUs, university AUs (and more!) for the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Request anything and I'll probably do it.





	1. Unrequited: Loki/Reader

_My world was beautiful. Grays and whites and blacks of every shade and intensity filled my life. The white that faded into gray on flowers, the veined lines of dark and light on leaves- all of it was so spectacular and lovely. I miss the days when it was all I knew. I had, of course, been told about soulmates. Every child knew. The first time you touched your soulmate your world would burst into color. When you were touching or near your soulmate after that, your world would be in vibrant color. When you were apart, the hues would fade away. Or at least that's what I was told. I knew what blue was in theory. I knew yellow and red. But I had never actually **seen** color. It was an abstract concept to me for my whole life. Until that day in June. _

_I remember every detail. I walked to the park and sat at the bench under the sycamore tree as I had been instructed. I wore a sun dress with butterflies scattered over it and strappy sandals. I waited for my charge. Loki Laufeyson of Asgard. I waited for maybe ten minutes until at exactly 11 o'clock in the morning EST, he arrived. He was tall and lean and handsome with shoulder-length black hair, pale skin, and sharp eyes. I stood and he walked over to me. Everything was going according to the plan the Avengers had given me._

_"Hi!" I greeted holding my hand out for him to shake. "My name is _______ and I'm here to help you assimilate into Earth culture."_

_"Pleasure to meet you, Lady ______," he answered politely, not taking my hand._

_"Alright, lesson one, don't call people 'Lady' or 'Sir' or whatever. Call them Miss or Mr. Lesson two, when someone holds their hand out like this you have to take it and give it a little shake," I told him. "Like this." I took his hand and shook it. As soon as my skin touched his, my vision was transformed. Vivid colors sprang into existence as I stared around with wide eyes, drinking in the new sights._

_"Wow," I breathed. "It's so beautiful..."_

_"What in the Nine Realms are you talking about?"_

_"The colors..."_

_"I have not a clue what you speak of, mortal." He spoke with mild annoyance and I knew he didn't see it. I'd heard of unrequited soulmates before. They were exceedingly rare. Only about a thousand people on Earth were affected. I never thought I would be one of the poor fools with no one to love them. And yet._

_I pulled back from him. "I'm so sorry. I just really don't feel well." It wasn't a lie. I felt like absolute shit. He would have been able to tell if I was lying. I continued teaching him about Earthly customs for three hours. Three agonizing hours of color taunting me everywhere I looked. It was beautiful and cruel. I dreaded and yearned for the moment I could leave. When our time was up, an Avenger came and took him back to wherever he lived. I practically ran home. Everything seemed flat. Empty. A gray hell._

_It's been a year. I've taught Loki all he needs to know. I can't do any more for him._

_I still don't know which is worse, living alone in my empty gray world but without the constant reminder that he'll never love me or being with him and the vibrant shades and looking into his eyes and knowing he'll never understand my misery. I guess it doesn't matter that much anymore, does it?_

_Goodbye,_

 

The note was signed in a pretty scrawl of her name before she folded it and placed it atop a towel and got into the tub. With one last deep breath and tears rolling down her cheeks, she drove the blade home between her ribs and twisted. She was off the mark a little, but it wouldn't take long. She watched as the water in the tub turned dark gray. Then it was bright crimson. Then all was black.

Loki went to her funeral. She wore the same dress as the day they met. A white sun dress with gray butterflies. As he put a flower on her corpse as a sign of thanks and respect, his hand brushed hers. And when he looked down, for one brief moment, the butterflies on her dress were vivid orange.


	2. Untamed Part I: Loki/Reader Soulmate AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yo what the fuck is up my guys  
> an actual happy ending  
> that's what the fuck is up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Venita_saiyan :  
> "I like the idea of [Loki and the reader] knowing each other but not liking each other at first, allot of fighting before they accidentally touch. Thanks in advance!"

You weren't really paying attention to Odin's words. You were busy eyeing his son suspiciously. You already didn't like him. With that smirk and, gods, the  _arrogance-_ the man seemed like an asshole.  _But I already decided to get to know him before I start hating him. After I get to know him then I can hate him._  Seemed like a fair plan. Either way you were still going to have to marry him. Your drunken shit of a father had run your country into the ground. He hosted lavish parties and bought the most expensive whores and pissed the entire treasury away. He held public executions for fun. Thank the gods he was dead. Now your mother was queen of a bankrupt country. She was left to deal with the wreckage left in the wake of your father's horrid reign.

You didn't blame her for it, really. The coffers were empty. What was your mother supposed to do?  _Not marry me off to some unpleasant prince,_  your brain supplied unhelpfully.

_No, I mustn't think that. This was my mother's only option. And he can't be all that terrible, can he?_

"Do you consent to marry my son?"

The words didn't pierce your thoughts.

"Do you consent?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I consent," you added hurriedly.

"Then it is agreed. You shall wed one hundred days hence. A maid will escort you to your chambers," the king said, dismissing you.

* * *

 It had been two weeks. Two weeks of getting lost in the palace, two weeks of unfamiliarity, two weeks of terrible inconvenience. But finally you felt well enough adjusted to life here to wander freely.

The dark of early morning gave the marble halls an eerie, desolate feeling as you padded barefoot along their shadowed lengths. There were a few guards prowling about, but they paid you no heed. All knew you by sight. Their golden helms cast deep shadows across their faces, making it seem as though they were only empty suits of armor stalking silently through the bowels of Asgard's great palace. Had you not seen far worse in your father's castle, you might have been frightened.

But this was not your father's castle, and there were not the rotting corpses of gutted peasants hanging on the walls as grisly testaments to madness and cruelty.

So, with that grim image still flashing behind your eyelids, you quickened your pace as you neared the Great Library. In books you would seek shelter from the memories. In books you would find peace.

You grabbed a dust-covered volume on Midgardian history and sat curled in a plush chair in front of the fireplace. For perhaps two hours you read, but your eyes began to lose focus. The words on the page became blurry and you shut your eyes to clear your vision. But the single second you had your eyes closed turned into two. Then ten. Then a minute. Then an hour.

You slept for some time, apparently, your feet curled under you as you nestled in a soft armchair. You woke, feeling unusually warm. Blinking against the sunlight now pouring in from the high windows, you tried to see what had woken you. Then his face came into focus and you started.

"By the dead!" you shrieked as Loki laughed at you. You shoved him back away from you. Or, well, you  _tried._  You could barely budge him and that only made him laugh harder. Though you had wrinkled his tunic, you noted with mild satisfaction. Prince Loki of Asgard was notorious for priding himself on his impeccable appearance and your indignation at having been woken by such a supreme asshole was diminished somewhat by the fact that you might have caused him some sort of minor inconvenience. 

"Go away!" you hissed angrily.

"Now why would I do that?" your obnoxious fiancé mocked, still leaning over you. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you resigned yourself to an undignified escape. His arms caged you in on both sides but you managed to duck under one, rolling over the arm of the chair and landing on the floor in a crouch. Standing to brush the dirt off your nightdress and smooth out any wrinkles, you glared daggers at Loki. 

Curtseying in a decidedly sarcastic manner, you turned and headed back to your room. 

* * *

You tried to quiet your mind. It was an effort doomed to failure, but you had to try. You would never stop planning. You would survive. You would not put yourself wholly at the mercy of another. Not again. Not ever again. These people expected you to serve as an ornament at Loki's side. They expected you to be a good,  _obedient_  wife. 

You may not be as physically or magically powerful as Loki, but you were born to  _rule_ , not to be ruled. And Norns help anyone who tried to subjugate you.

As you laid out clothing suitable for someone of your status, a knock sounded at your door. 

"Just a moment," you cried as you pulled a thin robe over your silk chemise.

"Does my wife-to-be think that I will not see all her clothes hide in only a few months' time? Would it not be pointless to hide it from me now?" an increasingly familiar voice sounded as your door swung open. Of course he didn't really expect for you to be nude when he opened the door, it was only to needle you. This  _beast_  thrived on the discomfort of others. And it seemed you were to be the newest target of his jibes.

"You were promised my  _hand_  in marriage, not the rest of me," you replied, malice hidden only under a thin veneer of civility.

"Ah, but where can I make that hand go, I wonder?" he spat back, eyes dancing with mirth.

"Probably your face, as I intend to slap you as soon as the opportunity arises." Maybe you shouldn't have been so insolent with your soon-to-be husband. He did have some power over you, after all. You might have been _technically_ higher than him in rank —you were the sole heir to a throne and he was but second in line for his own— but his kingdom was by far the more powerful of the two. And if he wished it, he could easily overpower you and kill you where you stood. Or do other things to you. Things you did not wish to think about. There were certainly worse fates than death. But he did not punish you for your cheek. Instead, he laughed. Prince Loki  _laughed._

"So the timid little kitten has some bite! Perhaps marrying you will not be so dull as I had feared." His tone was hungry and his eyes were dark. What in the nine hells had you gotten yourself into?

When he left, the room felt far colder than it had been before.


	3. Alcoholic Bastards and Altruistic Bartenders Part I: Tony Stark/Waitress!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony always comes into La Belle Aurore, one of the highest-rated non-exclusive bar and restaurant in NYC. You are a waitress there, and you often serve him drinks. Almost every night you have to call his friends because the guy's so hammered. Hell, you practically have Barton and Romanov on speed dial. But one night when his appendix ruptures and there isn't time to call someone to get him and take him home or to the hospital, what to do but take him yourself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought it'd be fun to write homeboy here as an idiot who doesn't do anything you're supposed to do when you feel sick and instead goes drinking. That sounds like him.

READ BOTTOM NOTES

 

"He's here!" Sam shouted into the break room from the kitchen.

"Mother Teresa, you're up!" Rick yelled at the same time.

"Make sure you get a big tip, Flashpoint," Mandy said, tossing your apron to you as you headed to the door separating this refuge from the demands of customers. "You only have forty-five minutes left."

"Got it," you grinned.

Tying the black apron around your waist with quick, practiced movements, you approached the most valued customer the restaurant had.

"Good evening, Mr. Stark. The usual?"

"Yes please."

You flashed the signal to Rick in the kitchen that meant "get Stark's regular order". Crossed fingers and a thumb sticking out meant he was ordering scotch and without thumb sticking out meant he wanted whisky. You had devised a system after the second week. 

Looking back at him, you noticed he looked pale. Sick. 

"Are you alright, sir? You don't look so good."

"I'll be fine." It sounded less like he was trying to convince you and more like he was trying to convince himself.

"You're sure? I can call Doctor Banner-"

"No, no. I'm fine. Just tired."

Giving him one last concerned look, you turned and made your way over to where Mandy was trying to deal with an irate customer who complained that his chicken parmesan had too much cheese. After ten minutes, the man was finally convinced to accept the chicken parm and stop causing a scene. 

When you managed to get back to the kitchen to grab Mr. Stark's order, you thought he looked like he could use something to get his blood sugar up. Grabbing a slice of apple pie and his whisky, you went back to the no. 1 customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh well i'm not happy with it but whatever i haven't posted in a long-ass time so better now than in a month
> 
> rating's going way the fuck up. that's what y'all want, right? a couple of smut one-shots?  
> who you wanna fuck yo  
> lemme know in the comments because _bitch-_  
>  i'm ready to write some damn lemons  
> let's make some fuckin lemonade.  
> gimme a prompt and it's time to go  
>  ** _who you wanna fuck yo_**


	4. Untamed Part II: Loki/Reader Soulmate AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rating's going way the fuck up soon prolly. that's what y'all want, right? a couple of smut one-shots?  
> it be like that sometimes yo  
> disappear for like a few months then shit ya boi has returned  
> who knows for how long tho  
> ive been having a lotta depressive episodes so this kind of vanishing for a long time might be going on for the next year or three if we're being honest. then ill probably have two or three years with a few short depressive episodes before the major depressive disorder kicks back in and i go back into seclusion for weeks at a time  
> yee yee bitch  
> but i got my fuckin memes and stuff so hell yea  
> it's all gucci

_That asshole...._ you thought angrily as you looked into your closet. All of your clothing had been changed. Where once silk and cotton had hung in shades of blue and violet and maroon, now olives and mints and viridians prevailed. Rifling through the array of green-hued fabric, you managed to find a modest pale green dress. A pair of pearl earrings and white slippers completed the ensemble. There was no point in putting it off. You would have to go sometime.

With a fearful sort of dignity and a confidence you did not feel, you opened the door and walked toward fate. 

Fate, it turned out, was a prince, a cat, and a whole lot of trouble.

 

❦   ❦   ❦

 

Two. Two steps. That was how far you got down the narrow corridor before an orange ball of fur came barreling toward you. Leaving you no time to react, the...  _thing_... whatever it was, skidded between your legs and into your chambers before you noticed the tall figure closing on you. Fast. 

Loki was trying desperately to slow down, but the slick stone floor offered little purchase. He tried to swerve around you, but unfortunately, you had gotten the same idea and tried to sidestep him. Your sidestep led you directly into his new trajectory and together, you rolled down the rest of the hallway before finally fetching up against the far wall. 

Your head rested against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath. After a few moments, Loki finally caught his breath enough to speak. 

"Can't wait until the wedding, darling?"

For a split second, you had no idea what he was talking about, but then every inch of skin burned red as you realized you were straddling his lap. You leaped to your feet and tried in vain to dust off your dress.

Loki laughed. It was a cruel thing, full of mocking and disdain. In that moment, you hated him. You hated his arrogance, his station, his beauty. No one that insufferable should be so beautiful. Ass. 

Flushed with shame and anger, you stormed back into your room. He was going to be your  _husband_ soon. Why did he feel the need to humiliate you so consistently?

_Oh yeah,_ you remembered.  _It's because he's an absolute bastard who gets off on making other people miserable._

 

❦   ❦   ❦

 

Your dress was ruined. The pale silk was streaked with dirt and the hem was somehow torn in your tumble. You would not have time to wash or repair it before you were expected at the feast. 

Throwing open your wardrobe door, another spike of anger shot through you. Now there was only one gown of bright forest green hanging within.

Wanting to cry, you pulled it on. It was of thin silk. And revealing. Very revealing.

You hadn't needed to wear a bra with the other dress because it had one sewn in. But now, when you needed one, there was none to be found. But Odin wouldn't accept that as an excuse. And if you tried to use it as one anyway, all of your clothes would probably miraculously reappear. You knew who was responsible. There was nothing to be done. You had to go to the feast in your too-thin gown. 

Bracing yourself, you once again stepped over the threshold and towards fate.


End file.
